


Not Easy Being Green

by UnabashedBird



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU because Sam and Steve are together (so no kiss with Sharon), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), and Bucky doesn't go back on the ice, everything else is the same
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 00:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6831586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnabashedBird/pseuds/UnabashedBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam tries to cope with having Bucky around, and everything that means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Easy Being Green

**Author's Note:**

> The lovely themegalosauras [posted about wanting an angsty Sam/Steve fic](http://themegalosaurus.tumblr.com/post/144142709003/woke-up-this-morning-suddenly-craving-sam) about Sam trying to deal with Bucky being around again, and struggling because he gets it, he gets how important Bucky and Steve are to each other, but he also can't help being jealous. And I thought, hmm, that sounds fun, I bet I could do that, so here's my attempt. I feel like I should ask for some leeway, because this is my first proper MCU fic, and because I've only watched Civil War once, and that's gonna be my excuse for if I got some details wrong.
> 
> Also I feel like I should probably apologize for the title. I wanted to post and I couldn't think of anything else. *shrugs*

Steve gets back into the tiny VW bug (Sam cannot _wait_  to tell Natasha about this; he hopes he gets the chance to tell Natasha about this), and Bucky, the smirk clear in his voice, says, “Same old Steve, missing his chance to kiss the girl."

Sam freezes, and he feels Steve freeze, because, like, this is not the moment, but also it’s Bucky, who’s known Steve better and longer than anyone alive (ha fucking ha), and it’s not like he wasn’t right at Steve’s side having adventures in old-school queer Brooklyn—

“Kidding,” Bucky says when Steve starts the car without saying anything. “You two didn’t think you were fooling me, did you? I know what Steve looks like when he’s sweet on someone.” Bucky jammed his knee into the back of Sam’s seat and, OK, there’s a chance Sam deserved that.

“Jackass,” he says to Bucky, because he is, he totally is.

“Don’t make me turn this car around,” is all Steve says, but when Sam glances at him he’s grinning, and Sam isn’t going to look, but he thinks Bucky might be, too, and he wonders what shared memory or understanding is causing it, if it’s from their growing-up years in Brooklyn or their time with the Howling Commandos during the war. And he wonders how often this will happen, now that they’ve found Bucky, how often he will be cut out from Steve’s moments of happiness, and the twinge in his gut is jealousy and guilt and hurt all wrapped up into one writhing mass of _aw, fuck_.

 

It’s not until they’re all settling into their new lives in Wakanda that Sam begins to try to process it, and even then, his mental and emotional resources are limited, a fact for which he’s kind of grateful. Steve is all wrapped up in Bucky, helping Bucky feel settled and stable, so it falls to Sam to do that for the rest of their broken team. Well, mostly for Wanda, poor kid. Scott just rolls with it with his usual minimal understanding of what’s actually going on, and Clint is also focused on Wanda in his weird-but-supportive uncle kind of way. Wanda seems to prefer that, actually, so Sam backs off.

Finds himself left mostly alone with his thoughts.

And it’s not that he doesn’t get it, because _god_  does he get it. If he suddenly found out that Riley had been alive all this time, had been imprisoned and tortured and mind-hijacked by Hydra or some other evil organization, and then he got Riley back and he was struggling with everything that had been done to him, and the entire world wanted to blame him when it wasn’t his fault, well, you can bet every fine superhero ass in the world that Sam would do what Steve is doing now: drop everything to be there for his buddy.

But.

He also kinda can’t help the whole jealousy thing. Steve is _his_  and he’s Steve’s and that’s important. Really important. Him and Steve is flirting and snarking but also not having to say anything. It’s doing the job not because some asshole with a bunch of stars on his shoulder told you to but because it’s the right thing to do. It’s having each other’s backs. It’s kissing and cuddling, and also holding each other through the aftershocks of nightmares. It’s some damn good sex. It’s him and Steve taking each other to the neighborhoods where they each grew up and Steve squeezing his hand almost too tight. It’s the priceless looks on racist or homophobic assholes’ faces when they realize that Captain America is about to teach them a lesson in basic human decency. It’s the way Steve pulls Sam close to his chest the first time they spend the night at Sam’s parents’ and nuzzles into Sam’s neck and Sam knows without having to be told that Steve is so glad to be there and glad to be welcomed, but will always miss the friends and family he left behind in another century.

Now that Bucky’s back, though, some of those things that were just Sam and Steve’s aren’t just theirs any more.

Bucky and Steve snark and almost-but-not-quite flirt (and don't some people say that you aren’t proper best friends unless people mistake you for a couple?) and also don’t have to say anything. Bucky and Steve did the job because it was the right thing to do back during World War II, and then before that in Brooklyn. Bucky and Steve have each other’s backs. Bucky and Steve grew up in the same neighborhood, Bucky is the _reason_  Steve squeezed Sam’s hand so hard as they walked around Brooklyn. Bucky is friend and family from another century returned to Steve.

So yeah, Sam is jealous. He’s not gonna _say_  anything because he’s not an asshole, but determination to not be an asshole doesn’t make the green monster go away.

Steve looks at him kind of surprised when Sam kisses him good morning in front of everyone at breakfast, and then scoots his chair as close as he can when he sits down. It’s not like they were keeping it a secret, but they weren’t, well, kissing in front of the team at breakfast, either. But screw it, Sam needs this, needs to let the small world of his fellow fugitives know that it’s him and Steve, that Bucky being around doesn’t change that.

Only, after breakfast Bucky has more appointments with various trusted specialists T’Challa is bringing in from all over his country, and Steve’s going with him. Sam wants to go with Steve, because, yeah, Steve is there to help and protect Bucky, but these doctors are trying to figure out how to fix Bucky’s brain, and who’s gonna protect Steve if Bucky goes off? But Steve hasn’t asked, and neither has Bucky, so Sam isn’t going to.

T’Challa offers to teach him some basics of his fighting style, and Sam accepts—it’ll be a good way to take his mind off things, plus it’s fucking cool and damn sexy. Not that he’s admitting that. He’s even got some come-backs lined up for if the Panther starts making bird jokes, but other than starting with a smirk and “now, I know you like birds," he doesn’t; instead he references the fact that panthers and falcons are both predators, though their methods differ. Sam grins and gets to work getting his ass kicked.

“So, this is working for you?” Clint asks one afternoon in the gym. “This broody, possessive, but not-talking-about-it thing?"

Sam glares. “Since when do you care?"

Clint shrugs. “Nat’s not here, Scott’s a space case, and Wanda’s dealing with her own shit, so that pretty much leaves me. And as someone who’s spent a lot of time with Nat, I’d like to think I’ve picked up a thing or two."

“Look, we’re all doing the best we can, OK?"

“Sure, sure. I’m just saying, I hear the talking thing can work wonders. Honestly, kinda expected you and Barnes to bond over spending so much time chasing after Steve and trying to stop him from being a total idiot."

“It ain’t that simple."

“No, I guess not."

A few days later, Wanda lingers after lunch and helps him with the cleaning up even though it isn’t her turn. “You should talk to him,” she says, softly and without preamble. “To Bucky, I mean. He is . . . it is difficult. He struggles. And he worries that all the time Steve spends helping him is coming between you and Steve, which only increases his feeling that everyone would be better off if he was dead or frozen. You both care about Steve. I just . . . I think it would be good for all if you talked."

“How do you know all this? About what Bucky’s thinking, I mean?"

She smiles, small and shy. “I talk to him. I thought, since we have both been used and twisted by Hydra, that we might help each other, or at least understand each other. Sometimes what is needed is someone who knows without you having to put it into words."

Sam knows from his work at the VA just how true that is.

“Is it? Helping, I mean.” Wanda nods. “You, too? Not just him?” Another nod. “Well, I’ll think about it. Don’t worry about me, OK? You focus on getting yourself well."

He hates the idea. He doesn’t want to be the bigger person, to offer the olive branch. _He’s_ Steve’s boyfriend, Bucky should be the one to come to _him_  . . . Which is totally unfair, actually, but he can let off a little steam within the sanctity of his own mind at least, right? Aside from his distaste for it, there’s the logistical issue of approaching Bucky without Steve being there, or at least knowing he’s doing it. Sam knows it’s perverse, but if Steve is going to notice he’s being consumed with angst about having Bucky around, he wants it to be because Steve sees it himself, without Sam having to tell him. He’d like to think that he doesn’t bring it up because Steve has enough on his plate, and that’s part of it, but not all of it. But hey, Sam never claimed to be a saint. Neither did Steve, of course, which is one of the things that makes them work: the general absence of rose-colored glasses.

Steve and Bucky, on the other hand . . .

Actually, Sam’s not sure about that, and he doesn’t bring it up. If Steve wants to talk about it, of course he’ll listen, but he doesn’t broach the Bucky subject specifically. Just “how are you doing?” and then it’s up to Steve what to tell him. Sam knows that, for Steve, the ‘40s and the war were only a few years ago. Reconceptualizing himself in his new twenty-first-century context is an ongoing process, one Sam doesn’t envy. And ever since Steve found out Bucky was alive, found out what was done to him, Bucky has been a part of that reconceptualization. Now Bucky’s _here_ , and HYDRA fucked with his brain so much he’s got a tenuous-at-best sense of himself as a person, but he knows Steve. So it’s not rose-colored glasses so much as that they’re both obviously trying so fucking hard to be what the other wants and needs, and God only knows if they’re succeeding.

And here’s Sam feeling like shit again for being jealous, for wishing things were different and not entirely in the what-happened-to-both-of-you-is-awful-and-you-deserve-so-much-better way.

He doesn’t want to be that person. He wants to be the kind of person who can be compassionate and find the appropriate boundaries so that his relationship with Steve remains intact and healthy, while still giving Steve the space to help and reconnect with Bucky. That’s who he is on his good days, he thinks. And he makes damn sure that, no matter what the inside of his head looks like, no matter how much he’s roiling with jealousy and longing, his reasonable, compassionate instincts control his actions as far as Steve-in-relation-to-Bucky is concerned.

Something has to give, though, and soon; Sam’s not sure what it’s going to be.

He’s been chasing those thoughts in circles for days when Bucky approaches him, alone. Sam raises his eyebrows, surprised.

“I pointed out to Steve that he might actually be the best qualified of us to teach Wanda how to fight, since he used to be tiny and learned most of what he knows from Peggy. Wanda’ll keep him occupied for a while. Good for both of them."

“OK."

“Thought we should talk,” Bucky says, sitting down across from Sam. “About, y’know, all that stuff you aren’t saying."

“Look, man—"

“It’s OK,” Bucky interrupts. “I mean, shit, can’t be easy. So I thought, let’s start with something that is."

“You mean Steve the Human Jack Russell?” Sam asks, grinning.

“ _Thank you_ ,” says Bucky, not quite smiling, at least not with his mouth, though it’s there in his eyes. “There’s all this bullshit on the Internet where people think he’s a Golden Retriever or some shit and I’m sitting here like ‘you people never had to chase his stupid fearless ass down the alleys of Brooklyn can you please get past the face for a goddamn second.’"

“Man, I can’t even imagine. I mean, at least if I can’t always keep up with him I know he can more or less take care of himself. But I read up on all those medical conditions he had before the serum, like how did you not have a heart attack every other week, or at least an ulcer or something?"

“‘Cause I’m a fucking _saint_ , is how,” Bucky says, Brooklyn heavy in his voice in a way that’s good to hear.

“So how do we do this?” Sam asks, deciding to take the plunge. “We both love him, and we both need him. Not in the same ways, but it’s still true. I wanna like you, I wanna help you. But you get why it’s hard, right?"

“That’s what I wanted to say to you, pretty much. And I don’t know. The answer, I mean."

“Well, as long as we’re both not sure, maybe I can live with that."

“Me, too.” Bucky starts to get up.

“And, uh, Barnes?"

Bucky pauses. “For chrissakes', Sam, at least call me Bucky."

“Sorry. Bucky. Natasha was my ‘save Steve from himself as much as possible’ wingwoman, but she’s not here. You’ve been doing that longer than any of us, so if Steve decides to go be Steve just a little too hard, d’you think—?"

“Yeah. I mean, I might notice before you do, bird man, but yeah."

Sam shakes his head, smiling. “Fuck off, hairdo."

Bucky leaves, flipping Sam off as he does.

It’s not a solution, exactly, but it’s better, a little.

 

“Sam, I’ve . . . I know I should’ve asked long before now. How are you doing with all of . . . no, we’ve talked about the general stuff, sorry. How are you doing with the whole Bucky thing?” Steve asks in bed that night, and Sam wonders if Wanda said something to him. But mostly he feels warm and fuzzy and also a bit triumphant because _Steve asked_.

“It’s not easy,” he admits, “but I get it, I really do. And mostly I don’t want you to have to deal with the petty stuff that goes through my head sometimes because I know it’s selfish and stupid and I don’t wanna feed it. Still, it’s not easy."

“Fair enough,” Steve says, and kisses Sam, kisses him deep and insistent, and Sam is happy to take the hint and roll them over so he’s on top of Steve.

He pins Steve’s arms, trailing kisses along his jaw, his neck, up to an ear where he bites and Steve cries out and Sam grins because _his_.

It’s not easy, but it’s worth it.


End file.
